


Stories from Hogwarts

by Tizniz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Not related to one another, Various stories, collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2019-11-29 05:42:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18218969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tizniz/pseuds/Tizniz
Summary: Various stories from Hogwarts.One-shots unless stated otherwise.Various pairings.Originally posted on my tumblr storiesfromhogwarts(Feel free to go request story ideas over there!):)





	1. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: They’re lost. And can’t ask directions because no one speaks French. Or so they thought…
> 
> Pairings: Draco/Hermione and Theo/Mia(OC)

Harry comes to a stop at the end of the street, hands on his hips as his head turns from one side and then to the other. Taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly, he turns around and faces the group, “I think we’re lost.”

Draco rolls his eyes, arms crossed loosely against his chest as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, “Well done, Potter.”

“Draco, be nice.” Hermione says with a light scowl, smacking him on the shoulder, “You promised you would be!”

“That was before you decided to bring Scarhead!” Draco snaps back, grey eyes glaring down at her, “That promise went out the door the moment he showed up!”

“Gee, thanks.” Harry mutters softly.

Hermione returns the glare up at the blonde man, “You can’t complain about me bringing my best friend when you brought yours.” She finishes her statement with a wild gesture towards where Theo stood casually, looking nonchalant.

“I didn’t invite Nott.” Draco sighs, lifting a hand to rub at the bridge of his nose, “He invited himself along. As he tends to do with most things.”

“Correction,” Theo holds a finger up, “I have a lifelong invitation to any and all vacations.”

“Since when?!”

“Since we were five and you begged your parents to take me along.” Theo replies with a straight face.

“I never begged!”

“Oh, you very much begged.”

 

“There’s no evidence of this, is there?” Harry asks, stepping forward with a smile tugging up on his lips, “I wouldn’t mind seeing Malfoy beg.”

“Shut it, Potter.”

“I’m sure Granger has experience in it.” Theo smirks, laughing when his own girlfriend smacks him in the chest, “Sorry, babe.”

“We talked about you discussing other people’s sex lives!” Mia hisses, “Especially when we are outside of the country!”

“But it’s Granger and Malfoy!”

“Even more reason to not do it!”

“I cannot believe I’m about to say this,” Draco says, “But I agree with Rossano. Can we cease the talk about mine and Granger’s sex life?”

“I second that.” Harry says with a grimace, “Besides, we’re still lost.”

“We wouldn’t be if you’d just asked for directions like I recommend before.” Hermione mutters as she crosses her arms tightly against her chest, giving a small huff of frustration.

“Yes, yes, Granger,” Draco drawls, draping an arm over her shoulders, “You were right and Potter was wrong once again. Can we move on?”

“We didn’t ask,” Harry says with a sharp look towards Draco, “Because none of us can speak French and that is all that they speak here.”

“Oh,” Theo blinks, “Is that the only problem?”

“Seriously,” Mia stares up at him, “How are you so calm about all of this?”

“Because there’s no problem.”

“You did hear Harry say we’re lost. Twice. Right?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a problem.”

“Not if we ask someone for directions.”

“No one here speaks English!”

 

“Bonjour!”

The group turns to see an approaching gentleman who is smiling kindly at them.

“Point. Proven.” Mia hisses towards Theo, but he rolls his eyes and looks towards Draco, quirking an eyebrow.

Draco lets out an exasperated sigh and steps forward, his arm falling from Hermione’s shoulders, “Bonjour, ça va?”

The newcomer replies in rapid French, with Draco nodding and responding with perfect French as well, his accent smooth and clean.

Harry’s jaw drops open and he looks towards Hermione in question, but the witch is as stunned as he is, staring over at her boyfriend in surprise. Mia blinks as well, eyes darting from the gentleman to Draco and back again, trying to understand what was going on.

Then the gentleman is nodding and waving before ambling past them, whistling joyfully to himself. Draco faces the group as well, a calm expression on his face, “We actually aren’t as lost as we thought. We just need to go a couple streets over and our hotel is half a block up from there.”

 

“You can speak French?!” Hermione squeaks out, gaping at her boyfriend as he moves back to her side, his arm winding around her waist.

“Yes,” He nods, “Shall we go?”

“You can speak _French_?” Hermione repeats, head tilted up to look at him, “Since when?!”

Draco shrugs, “Since…” He pauses and looks towards Theo, “Since what, we were eight or nine?”

“About that, yes.” Theo nods.

“Hold up!” Mia shakes her head, “You can speak French too?”

“Yes.”

“What the fuck?!”

“You never asked.”

“All this time,” Harry mutters, “All this time we’ve been wandering…and you could have asked someone…”

“No one mentioned the fact that French was required.” Draco points out, “If someone had mentioned that, Theo and I could have easily asked for directions.”

“You speak French…” Hermione says in a daze, “Perfect French. Perfect accent. French!”

Draco chuckles lowly, brushing his lips against his witch’s temple, “Good to know I can still leave you speechless, Granger.”

“Hey, Draco,” Theo smirks as he leads Mia past the couple, “Maybe you could start speaking French in bed with Granger. I’m sure having her speechless there would be a benefit too. OW!”

“Stop talking about their sex life!” Mia scolds, “And you’re still explaining the whole you-speaking-French thing.”

“You never asked!”

“You could have mentioned it at any time, like when I told you I can speak Italian!”

“Wasn’t relevant!”

 

Harry follows after the couple, shaking his head and muttering about aimless wandering and useless Slytherin’s, leaving Draco and Hermione to trail behind.

“Is that something you’d like, Granger?” Draco asks, speaking lowly into her ear, “For me to speak French in bed?”

“Depends,” Hermione replies quietly, “What would you say?”

“Anything you want.”

“How good is that silencing spell?”

“Good enough that none of them have heard us the past few nights.” He smirks. “Should I teach you some French words tonight, Hermione?”

The witch can’t stop the shiver of anticipation that runs down her spine at the proposition. “I think that could be something we do.”

“Hmm, ce soir sera très amusant mon amour.” Draco replies, chuckling softly at the shiver that runs down his girlfriends back once more.

Oh yes, tonight was going to be _very_ fun.


	2. Visit From A Drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A late night visit from a drunk.
> 
> Pairing: Harry/Theo

Harry swings the front door open, face blank as he stares across at the body leaning heavily against the door frame. “What?”

“Hello to you too.” Theo drawls, lip twitching up into a smirk, “Lovely to see you.”

“It’s half one in the morning, Nott.”

“I know.”

“I was sleeping.”

Theo’s eyes slowly run down the length of Harry’s body and then back up again, eyebrow arching, “In jeans? Comfy.”

Scowling, Harry crosses his arms against his chest, keeping himself planted in the middle of the doorway and blocking any possible entrance into the flat behind him. “Why do you smell like a walking liquor bar?”

“Do I?” Theo asks, lifting an arm to give himself a light sniff, “Hadn’t noticed. That may be due to the copious amounts of alcohol I have consumed in the previous hours.”

“So you’re drunk.”

“Completely and utterly sloshed, yes.”

“Wonderful.”

“I thought so,” Theo replies, “So are you going to let me in or not, Potter.”

It was more of a statement than a question, as both knew that Harry would eventually step aside and let Theo into the flat. But Harry wasn’t ready to back down, not yet.

“Why should I?”

“Because as famous as you are,” Theo says, lips forming into a smirk once more, “I don’t think anyone’s neighbours particularly care for a late night conversation in the hallway. Especially when one half of the participants is beyond drunk and could get quite loud and obnoxious--”

“You don’t need to be drunk to be that.”

“You would know how loud I can get, wouldn’t you, Potter?”

 

Harry glares back at Theo, hating the way his last name fell from the other man’s lips, the smugness shining in those seagreen eyes, and the fact that he was about to actually let Theo into his flat.

Dammit.

“Shut up, Nott.” Harry mutters darkly, turning on his heel and marching back into his flat, the sound of Theo stumbling in behind him alerting him to the fact that his unspoken message was received.

He enters the kitchen and walks around the small island counter, leaning against it with his hands splayed out before him, watching as Theo did his best attempt at acting like he was balanced as he came to a stop on the other side of the counter.

“Why are you here?” Harry asks after a few seconds of silence, unable to handle the tension that was forming between the two. “I know what you’re like drunk, Nott. You still manage to keep your head about you, so you can’t blame the alcohol for this abrupt visit.”

“And clearly I’m not here for your charming personality.” Theo drawls as he drags a chair back from the island and sits heavily in it, “What’s so wrong with me being here, Potter?”

“You mean besides the fact that we haven’t spoken or seen each other in three months?” Harry grits out, “I could think of a few.”

All Theo does is blink over at him and then shrug, clearly unbothered by the time that’s passed.

This response only angers Harry and he slams his hand down on the counter, “Dammit, Theo! You can’t do this! You can’t just fuck off three months ago and then suddenly appear, completely drunk, and act like nothing's wrong or has changed! It has been _three_ months! Three fucking months since _you_ walked away. Since _you_ chose that you couldn’t handle this. Since you decided that you were too good for me. Since you--” Harry comes to a stop, the argument sticking in his throat. “Wait, why are you crying?” 

 

Theo turns his head away, rubbing roughly at his eyes and cheeks, “M’not. Shut up. Or keep yelling at me. Whatever.”

“I...But…”

“Look,” Theo snaps out, fingers curling against his thigh as he glares down at a spot on the counter, “I didn’t...I never _wanted_ to leave. I was just...fuck, I don’t know! I was scared!”

“Scared?”

“Yes,” Theo lifts his gaze up to the green eyes staring back at him, “I’m not some stupidly brave Gryffindor like someone I know.”

“Why were you scared, Theo?” Harry asks, his voice quieter than before, the anger having drained from him.

“Because of...because you’re...fuck, Potter. Because I was falling in fucking love with you and I didn’t know what to do!”

 

Theo’s words hang in the air between them, their gazes clashing across the counter.

Harry didn’t know how to respond; he knew his feelings had been growing quite rapidly for Theo before the other man had upped and left, but Theo had always been hard to read, and so Harry had had no idea that he was feeling that way.

“Was?”

For some reason, that is the only word Harry can think to say. A small part of him is terrified to find out that Theo’s feelings were a thing of the past. Harry’s certainly were not.

“Am.” Theo corrects in a softer tone. “I _am_ in love with you, Harry. It’s why I got drunk. Because I couldn’t handle another night of being sober and knowing you weren’t there. Because I’m a piece of fucking shit who walked away from the best thing to ever happen to me. And apparently also made you think that you weren’t good enough.” Theo sighs, forearms resting against the countertop as his head hangs down against his chest, “That isn’t true--far from it. If anything, I’m not good enough for you. Never have been, never will be--”

“Theo--”

“You deserve someone better, Harry. Someone who won’t fuck off when they get scared. Someone who isn’t fucked up. Someone who hasn’t done things he regrets. Someone who...someone who isn’t me.”

“Well that’s bullshit.” Harry blurts out, prompting Theo to lift his head and send a questioning look towards the other man, only to discover that Harry isn’t on the other side of the counter. Instead, he’s walking around it and towards where Theo is sitting.

 

When close enough, Harry spins the chair around, hands against the back of it and trapping Theo in the seat as he leans in close, staring into the seagreen eyes he’d missed these past couple of months.

“I don’t want someone else. Because there is no one else. I don’t want someone better. Because there is no one better. You think you don’t deserve me, Theo, but you do. And I wouldn’t have agreed to go out with you in the first place if I hadn’t thought that. I never would have opened myself up to you the way I did if I didn’t think that you were a good man. And as for the regrets...we all have them. We’ve all done shit that we wish we could take back. But we can’t, and we’re huma, and we make mistakes. All we can do is move on and accept it.”

Theo swallows, unable to tear his gaze away from Harry’s, offering a small nod when words fail him.

“You don’t get to run away again, Theo.” Harry tells him, “If you’re in this, then you’re in this. Scared or not. Because I’m scared too. Love is a scary thing. But it’s also a wonderful thing. So please,” His fingers tighten around the chair, “Don’t fucking run away again.”

Theo leans in, closing the distance between them to press his lips against Harry’s, fingers wrapping around Harry’s hipbones and pulling him close until he’s stood between Theo’s legs, the kiss deepening and expressing everything that couldn’t be put into words.

 

It was Theo’s promise.

His promise to stay.

His promise to try.

His promise to love.

 

Harry breaks the kiss not long after, nose wrinkling, “You need to brush your teeth. You taste like a drunk.”

Laughing, Theo pulls him into another kiss, “Whatever you want, Potter.”

“Theo,” Harry grumbles, trying to pull away, “I’m serious. You need--” But his next words are muffled as Theo decides that kissing is far more important right now.

It had been three months since they’d last been together after all.


	3. Middle of the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finds Hermione in the common room in the middle of the night, apparently neither of them can sleep.
> 
> Pairing: Hint of Harry/Hermione

“‘Mione?” Harry says around a yawn as he adjusts his glasses.  
The curly haired witch lifts her head from the book she’d been reading, “Oh, hello Harry.”  
“Why are you awake?” He asks, shuffling towards the couch she was sitting on, “It’s the middle of the night.”  
“I could ask you the same thing.” She replies, shifting her feet as he falls onto the couch.  
Harry shrugs, “Couldn’t sleep.”  
Hermione closes the book on her lap and leans over to place it on the floor before settling back against the armrest of the couch, studying the wizard sitting across from her.

She knew Harry’s nightmares were getting worse; it was obvious on his face. The bags under his eyes were dark and exaggerated by the paleness of his skin, his unruly hair was messier than normal, and his entire body seemed to slump into the couch as he heaves a low sigh.  
Her best friend had been replaced by a shell of a man and it was worrying her greatly.

“Another nightmare?” Hermione asks him, tucking her feet under his pyjama clad thigh.  
“Yeah,” Harry nods, head falling against the couch back, letting it tilt to the side so he could look at her, “But you haven’t explained why you’re awake.”  
She shrugs, twisting a couple of pieces of hair into a braid, “Not having nightmares, if that’s anything.”  
“I guess that’s good…but you being awake in the middle of the night is very unlike you, Hermione. Weren’t you the one always scolding me and Ron for not going to bed at a decent time?”  
“Oh be quiet.” Hermione says as she pokes his thigh with her toe, “It wasn’t like either of you ever listened to me anyways.”  
“We did,” Harry smiles as he tugs her feet onto his lap, “At least, I did when it mattered.”  
“Like when?” She scoffs, shuffling further down in the couch.  
“You honestly think I’d be alive right now if it wasn’t for you?”  
“Okay, fair.”  
“Someone’s full of themselves.” He laughs, his hand rubbing her leg gently.

The two fall into a content silence as the fire crackles in the fireplace, the warm light casting a glow across them. Hermione could feel her body relaxing between the heat of the fire and the warmth from Harry’s hand on her leg.  
There was always something so comforting about him; maybe that was why she had been drawn to him all those years ago on the train.

“Hermione?”  
“Hm?” She blinks sleepily over at him, catching the reflection of the fire in his glasses.  
“Do you think we’ll make it through this?”  
It was asked so calmly, and if she didn’t know Harry as well as she did, Hermione was sure she’d have missed the intense worry hidden behind his words.  
“It wasn’t just a nightmare keeping you up, was it?”  
“No.”  
“Oh, Harry…”  
“I just don’t want to let anyone down, Hermione.” Harry says softly, “And there’s so many people putting their lives at risk for me—you included. I don’t want anyone to die for me, or because of me. I never asked for this. And yet…here we are.” He sighs, “I just…I worry that we won’t make it through this. That all of this will be for nothing.”  
“Hey,” Hermione says, drawing her feet off of his lap and holding a hand out to him, “Come here.”  
He looks over at her confusion for a second until Hermione wiggles his fingers, and then he shuffles in his position until he’s laying between her legs with his head resting on her stomach. Her fingers work into his hair, nails dragging lightly against his scalp.  
She can feel his body relaxing into hers, one arm curling around her, and once she removes his glasses for him, he buries his face into her cotton jumper.

“We know you didn’t ask for this, Harry.” Hermione tells him quietly. “And we know you’d rather none of us put our lives at risk for you. But we care for you, and we are going to do whatever we can to help you. Even if that means fighting at your side until the end.”  
“Hermione—“  
“Quiet. It’s my turn to talk.”  
“Fine.”  
“And you aren’t going to let anyone down. I know this because you haven’t yet, and look how much you’ve done and accomplished. You are amazing, Harry. And you are going to get through this, all of us are, and you are going to defeat him. Because you are a brilliant wizard.”  
Harry lifts his head to look up at her, a little cheeky smile on his lips, “And because I have you as my best friend?”  
Laughing, she nods, “And because you have me as your best friend to fix any mistakes you might make along the way.”  
“Thanks, ‘Mione.”  
“You’re welcome, Harry.”  
He settles back down against her, releasing a breath as the two fall back into a comfortable silence.

Hermione blinks her eyes open before squinting at the sunlight streaming through the windows and against her face.  
When had she even fallen asleep?  
There’s a heavy weight against her, and when she looks down, she sees Harry still sleeping peacefully with his face resting on her stomach. She smiles at the sight, glad to see him getting some proper sleep for the first time in what she was sure was weeks.  
He shuffles briefly in his sleep, mumbling softly, but he doesn’t stir more than that. It does draw her attention to the fact that over the course of the night, their hands had found each other’s and were joined together.  
Blushing lightly, Hermione debates releasing his hand. Would he wake up? She didn’t want that. Not when he was so calm looking.

“Someone had a good night.”  
Her gaze snaps up to the owner of the voice, finding George leaning over the back of the couch, smirking down at her.  
“Don’t worry, Hermione,” He winks, “I won’t tell anyone what I saw.”  
“There’s nothing to tell.” She squeaks out, her heart racing and the flush deepening on her cheeks. “We just…we were talking…and we fell asleep…and…”  
Chuckling, he shakes his head, “That’s what the all say…quite adorable, really. Always suspected it’d be you two.”  
“What are you on about?!”  
“Nothing.” George grins, pushing away from the couch, “Best wake up your boyfriend though, before anyone else comes down!”  
“George!” Hermione hisses after him, but she can already here him climbing through the portrait hole and out of the common room. Groaning, she thumps her head back against the armrest, wondering how exactly she managed to get in this position.  
Against her stomach, Harry mumbles once more in his sleep, this time something about catching a snitch.  
Stupid boys.


	4. What Sound?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus hears something break. Sirius acts as if he’s heard nothing.
> 
> Pairing: Remus/Sirius and James/Lily.

The sound of something shattering echoes through the room, followed by a very distinct silence.

Sighing softly, Remus gently closes the book he’d been happily reading before setting it on the table beside his bed. Standing up from the bed, he shuffles across the room and out into the hallway, the silence almost deafening now.

Silence following a loud shatter was _never_ safe in this house.

 

Emerging into the living room, he narrows his eyes at Sirius, who is standing there smiling innocently back at him. The room looks as it had when Remus had left it earlier to go and read the book he’d picked up last week, but that only made him more suspicious.

“Hey, love.” Sirius says in greeting, “All done reading?”

Crossing his arms, Remus shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his narrowed eyes never leaving his boyfriend. “No. I heard a sound.”

“A sound?” Sirius looks around, the innocence disgustingly thick, “I heard nothing! I was just in here being quiet while you read your book.”

“Then what was that shattering?”

“What shattering?”

Remus arches an eyebrow, “A _normal_ person would have heard the sound of whatever it was that just shattered. I, as you know, am not normal. My hearing is better than most. Which means there is no way out of this for you, Black. What did you break?”

“I didn’t break anything!” Sirius protests, holding his hands up in front of him, “Do you _see_ anything broken?”

“No,” Remus scowls, “But I’m not fucking deaf, Padfoot. Just tell me what you broke!”

“Nothing!”

“Stop lying!”

“I’m not!”

 

The two stare each other down, Remus with a glare and Sirius with his continuing look of innocence, neither willing to give in.

Spitting out a curse, Remus stomps his foot and spins around, marching back to his room, muttering about dating a man-child and not wanting to ruin his perfectly good Saturday dealing with something Sirius had done wrong once again.

Once the sound of the bedroom door slamming shut reached him, Sirius lets out a breath, shoulders slumping.

How he had managed to get away with that one was beyond him.

 

A few days later, Remus is swatting Sirius’ hands away from the pot boiling on the stove, shoving his boyfriend towards where the buns waited on the counter to be placed in a bowl.

“If you’re going to be in here, then help!”

“But I’m shit in the kitchen, Moony.” Sirius whines, reaching for Remus’ jumper to pull him closer, “And I just want a taste—“

“No!” Remus slaps the hand away again, “If you start now, we’ll never get dinner made!”

“You had no complaints last time,” Sirius says, a sudden smirk appearing on his lips as he leans back against the counter, “I believe what you were saying was the complete opposite of a complaint actually.”

Flushing, Remus pointedly turns back to the stovetop, stirring the contents inside of the pot, “Yes. Well. You ambushed me, didn’t you?!”

“I did no such thing!”

“Shut up and take the buns out of the bag. Lily and James will be here soon.”

“Fine,” Sirius comments from behind him, “But I _will_ win you over, Remus Lupin.”

Rolling his eyes, Remus remains focusing the stove, even as a smile appears on his lips, “You already have, dork.”

 

“Ugh,” James says as he appears in the doorway, “Can you hold off on the cheesy stuff until _after_ dinner is done?”

“Oi!” Sirius throws a bun at his best mate’s head, “You can’t say shit, Prongs! We listened to you for _years_ going on about Evans!”

“He’s got a point,” Remus shrugs, “It’s only fair now.”

“I was not that bad!” James gapes, “You two are way worse than Lily and I!”

“Actually,” Lily says, stepping around her boyfriend and smiling in greeting at Remus and Sirius before her eyes flicker up to James, “You were worse than both of them. I remember.”

“You didn’t even listen to me half the time.” James replies with a scoff.

“No,” She shakes her head, “I simply never responded. I still heard all of your comments. And let’s not forget how much worse it got after I finally agreed to go on a date with you!”

Remus and Sirius groan in unison, recalling the many nights spent in the Gryffindor tower stuck listening to James go on and on about the redhead.

James crosses his arms and pouts, “I still think they’re worse than me.”

“Keep telling yourself that, babe.” Lily giggles, stretching up on her toes to brush a kiss against his cheek. “Hey, Remus, I have a question for you.”

“Hm?” Remus replies, his attention back on dinner.

“What happened to that vase I gave you when you and Sirius moved in?”

 

There’s a moment of absolute silence in the kitchen before Remus turns slowly to glare over at his boyfriend, who has a sudden interest in placing the buns just so in the bowl.

“Sirius. Black.”

“Yes, sweetheart?” Sirius replies innocently, batting his lashes over at Remus.

“Did you break that vase?!”

“Which vase?”

“You know exactly which vase I’m talking about, you dolt! I asked you the other day what you broke!”

“Ooooh,” Sirius nods, “ _That_ vase. Well,” He sniffs, sending a quick look towards Lily, “It wasn’t that great looking anyways.”

“SIRIUS!” Lily and Remus shout in unison as James snickers from his spot.

 

Just another typical dinner between them then.


	5. I Know You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ministry fundraiser ball’s can make one realize they miss love.
> 
> Pairings: Theo/Mia (OC) and Draco/Hermione

Mia fidgets with the skirt of her dress, smoothing her palm down it as she releases the silky fabric before straightening once more, leaning against the wall at her back. All around her are similarly dressed witches and wizards, all looking spectacularly better than her.

Frowning, she smooths a hand down the front of her dress once more; how in the world had she allowed Hermione to talk her into this?

And speaking of Hermione…

 

After a quick search of the room, Mia’s emerald green eyes find no sign of her friend and kidnapper. She knew that there were many people wanting to speak with the famous witch, but Hermione had promised to stick with Mia through the night so that she wouldn’t be left alone.

Yet it had been at least thirty minutes and Mia was still alone and leaning against the wall at the back of the room, attempting to draw as little attention to herself as possible.

 

“Drink?”

She starts at the sudden voice, eyes darting over to the right where a familiar set of seagreen eyes stared back at her, glass of bubbling liquid held out to her.

“Nott,” Mia starts, “You know—“

“It’s sparkling apple juice, Rossano,” Theo Nott cuts her off, rolling his eyes lightly, “I know you don’t drink.”

“Right,” She blushes, plucking the glass from his fingers and lifting it to her lips, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He replies, shifting his body to lean against the wall next to hers, lifting his own glass of fire whiskey to his lips, taking a sip of the amber liquid. “Why are you here?”

“I forgot how lovely our conversations can be.” Mia drawls, finger tapping against the cool glass in her hand.

“You know what I mean, Rossano.”

And she did. Just as he knew she did not drink, he knew that these Ministry fundraiser ball’s were something she tended to avoid attending. That her presence here was abnormal. That she’d much rather be at home in some comfy clothes and curled up with her cat.

Theo Nott, despite his protests, knew her.

 

Taking another sip, Mia takes a moment before answering. “Hermione.”

“Granger managed to drag you here?” His voice holds a hint of surprise. “What did she offer you?”

Lips twitching, Mia keeps her gaze on the crowd as the various attendees mingled together, some of them gathering in the middle to start dancing. “That she would stay with me the entire time if I accompanied her.”

“Ah,” Theo says, and she sees him nod from the corner of her eye, “Really upheld that promise didn’t she?”

“Apparently so.”

“How long did it last?”

“About ten minutes before she got dragged away by some older gentleman who gave me one look and turned his nose up at me and decided I wasn’t worth his time.” She can feel Theo tense up next to her, but she knows he hates when attention is drawn to those moments, so she remains looking into the crowd.

“You work at the Ministry too,” He grits out, “You have every right to be here. And it isn’t as if he can be against you for being Muggle-born. Granger is too!”

 

Tilting her head enough to sneak a peak at him, Mia’s eyes move along the lines of Theo’s jaw.

Tense. Angry. Protective.

When had this friendship blossomed into something so strong?

Back when she had only started at the Ministry, Mia was ignored by most of her pureblooded former classmates that also worked there. Theo Nott included.

The two had been forced together on a few assignments, and it had resulted in quite a few angry arguments that had the two screaming and shouting at one another, prompting many of their fellow coworkers to avoid the room they’d taken over for their assignment.

Her and Theo were just not meant to get along.

 

Then an assignment had come up, involving her ex-boyfriend of all people, and Mia had essentially shut down.

She had begged and pleaded with her boss to reassign it to someone, but there was no one, and so she’d been forced to work it with Theo.

He had taunted her as normal, but when Mia gave no response back, it had confused him. It wasn’t until they’d had their first encounter with Ryan Wentworth that Theo started to clue in to what was going on.

That night, after the two had returned to the practically empty office to go over what they’d learned that day, Theo had conjured up a bottle of vodka and demanded she talk.

Mia had quietly refused the drink, stating she didn’t care for alcohol. Frowning, Theo exchanged it for a non-alcoholic drink, but kept the demand.

When she still didn’t say anything, Theo started it off for her.

He knew the signs, had lived them; he knew when someone had been abused, because he himself had been abused.

The shock of having someone figure it out had thrown Mia off, and her walls had come crumbling down. There was nothing left to hide from Theo.

 

After that case was closed—and Theo got a good punch at Ryan—something changed between herself and the Slytherin.

Somehow, against all odds, they’d become friends.

And then best friends.

And now, Theo Nott was probably the person that knew her best in the world.

Even if he still denied being best friends with Mia Rossano.

 

Draco had scoffed at it the first time, stating to his former housemate that if he could admit to falling for Hermione Granger—Gryffindor princess and Golden Girl—then Theo could admit to being best friends with a Ravenclaw witch.

 

“I don’t think it was my blood status,” Mia finally answers, her voice quiet, “I simply think it was my station in the Ministry. Hermione is higher than me. She’s aiming for Minister. I’m not. I don’t offer him anything.”

Theo shifts on his feet, “Doesn’t mean he should be an ass.”

Unable to stop it, a snort of amusement slips from her, “Maybe you should take your own advice, Nott.”

“Oi!” He turns his head to glare down at her, “I brought you a drink, didn’t I?”

“Oh yes,” Mia drawls, “How very kind of you.”

“And saved you from standing here on your own.”

“Yes, yes,” She laughs, looping her arm through his and resting her body against his, “Thank you, Theo. You know I appreciate your company.”

“Damn right you do.” He mutters, lifting his glass to finish his drink. Once it’s empty, he deposits it on a passing tray, using the hand to loosen the tie around his neck. “Fuck though, I hate these stuffy events.”

Sighing, Mia nods, “Same.”

“Still can’t believe Granger managed to drag you here.”

“Better believe it,” She responds with a squeeze of his arm, “Because I’m standing next to you. And in a dress!”

 

Mia can feel Theo’s eyes cast down across her body, and she forces herself to not squirm under the gaze. It was a pretty dress, the deep midnight blue complimented her colouring well, and the cut wasn’t too low that she felt as if she was going to fall out of it, but still managed to show off the curves of her body pleasantly.

“Yes,” Theo mumbles, “You are…”

Tilting her head back, Mia peers up at him, struck by the look in his eyes for a moment.

Clearing his throat, he fiddles with his tie, “You…Well…You look quite lovely, Mia.”

“Oh.” She blinks, flushing lightly at the compliment and use of her first name, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Turning her attention back to the crowd, her fingers tighten around the glass as she lifts it to drain the remaining contents, the bubbles tingling her throat.

 

The silence stretches between herself and her companion, but before it can grow tense, Mia spots a familiar head of hair, accompanying her missing kidnapper.

“Found her.”

“Hm?” Theo asks, adjusting his own gaze to where she was looking. “Ah, that makes sense.”

Nodding in agreement, Mia watches as Draco spins Hermione out on the dance before pulling her back towards him, his arm winding around her and keeping her close, an intimate smile on his face as he says something to her.

The witch blushes prettily, an intimate smile of her own gracing her lips as her hands rest lightly on Draco’s chest, the touch one that screamed she was familiar with his body. Then Draco is grasping one of Hermione’s in his own, his fingers wrapping around hers while his hand moves to the low of her back, leading her in a dance, his eyes never leaving hers.

 

Mia can’t help but sigh at the sight, unable to tear her eyes away from the display of love and affection.

It had been interesting watching their relationship grow from enemies to lovers, but now she could not see anyone else better suited for Hermione Granger than Draco Malfoy.

They complimented each other while also pushing each other when needed.

They also looked incredibly good together.

 

“What?” Theo asks, nudging Mia lightly in the ribs.

“Huh?” She blinks, tearing her gaze away from the loved up couple and up to her own companions face.

He frowns down at her, “You sighed. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Mia says with a shake of her head, letting him take the empty glass from her fingers and place it on a passing tray, “I was just…” Her eyes dart over to where Hermione is tossing her head back as she laughs brightly at something Draco has said, the latter’s smile growing at the sound. “They just love each other so much…”

“Yes,” Theo mutters in agreement, “They do.”

“And I suppose,” Mia shrugs, extracting her arm from where it was wound around Theo’s to wrap around her torso, “I suppose I’m a little envious.”

“Whatever for?”

“The last relationship I was in was with Ryan.” She catches the way Theo sucks in a breath at the mention of her ex-boyfriend but continues. “And I’ve only been on two horrible dates since then. I miss…I miss being in love.”

“What you had with that waste of space was not love.”

“I suppose you’re right,” She sighs, “But in the beginning…I felt like how Hermione looks right now.” Mia forces her gaze away from the couple once more, “Is it really too much to ask for someone to love me? To look at me the way Draco looks at Hermione?”

 

She didn’t know why she was saying this, and to Theo Nott of all people.

He surely didn’t care about any of this. As long as she’d known him, Mia had never seen him have a proper relationship. He went on a few dates, but seemed to mostly sleep with people.

There was no way that Theo even understood what it was that Mia wanted.

It was foolish of her to be saying any of this.

 

“Sorry,” She waves a hand, “Ignore me. I just…Excuse me.”

Without waiting for a response, Mia pushes off of the wall and heads for the door that leads out onto the balcony, finding that she needs some fresh air.

 

The crispness of the night air hits her skin and eases the warmth that had been growing across it. Taking in a deep breath, she walks towards the railing, resting her shaking hands against the cool stone. Closing her eyes, she takes in another deep breath, trying to pretend she had not just spewed all of that at Theo.

If it had been anyone else, she could have played it off as nothing. As her simply being in an uncomfortable situation and needing to fill the silence.

But with Theo, she couldn’t.

 

The moment she had laid eyes on Theo, all the way back in Hogwarts, she had felt an attraction to him.

Despite all of the comments and sneering thrown her way, Mia had watched him grow into the stunning man she now considered one of her best friends.

She’d be lying if she didn’t admit that as she had seen Hermione and Draco shift from enemies to lovers, Mia had been hoping that perhaps it could happen with herself and Theo.

But it hadn’t.

Nor would it.

She was lucky enough that they were friends. That would be enough for her.

 

But to go on about how she missed being loved, wanted to be looked at the way Draco looked at Hermione, and to Theo?!

No. That was dangerous territory.

 

“Why do you do that?”

Jumping once more at the sound of his voice, Mia spins around as her eyes fly open, landing on Theo standing in the doorway of the party. The light casts from behind him, creating a glow around his body and shadowing his expression just enough to make it difficult for her to read.

“W-What do you mean?” Mia asks, wishing her heart would quit racing.

“You run away.” He tells her, taking a few measured steps towards her. The shadows danced across his face, but his eyes were bright and focused on her. “You don’t give yourself a chance. You just run.”

“Yes, well,” Her fingers tighten into her palms, “You know better than most why I do that.”

“No,” Theo shakes his head slowly, “That isn’t it. Not this time.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know you, Mia.” She shivers at the sound of her first name. “What are you scared of this time?”

“I…” Her mouth snaps shut after a moment, and he takes another step towards her. “I’m not scared.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Then why did you run.”

“I didn’t run…” He was directly in front of her now. Trapping her against the railing. Her body frozen as his eyes bore down into hers. “I just…I needed some air…”

“Why.”

“Because…” Her tongue wets her lips, and she watches as his eyes drop down for a split second to catch the movement. “Because.”

“That’s a shit excuse, Rossano.” Theo murmurs, his fingers trailing up her bare arm. “Want to try again?”

“Not particularly.”

“Then how about you answer this,” He smirks, “When you were rambling on about missing being in love—“ Oh no. Please no. “Who did you have in mind?”

 

Her eyes widen a fraction.

He knew.

He had to know.

Of course he knew.

Because Theo fucking Nott knew her.

Dammit.

 

“What…” Mia clears her throat, trying to ignore the sensation of his fingers trailing up and down her arm, “What makes you think I had someone in mind?”

He leans in closer, his breath hot against her lips, “Because I know you, Mia.”

“Do you now?”

“Yes.”

“Then you tell me.”

“Gladly.” Theo replies, and then his lips against hers and everything else fades away.

 

Her hands slide up his chest and around his neck, fingers twisting into the dark chocolate locks that she’d always admired. They were as soft as she’d imagined.

His one hand had moved up to her cheek and into her own blond locks, while his other hand took hold of her hip, keeping her in place as the stone railing pressed into her back.

But none of that mattered as his tongue swipes along her bottom lip, coaxing her mouth open, and then she’s tasting him, and he tastes so much like _Theo_ that she doesn’t know why she’s surprised.

 

The sound of loud laughter from the party startles them apart, and Mia stares up at him, panting heavily. His lips, swollen from the kiss, curve up into a smirk once more, and his fingers tuck a blonde lock behind her ear as he ducks down to brush a chaste kiss against her own swollen lips.

“Better get back inside before anyone notices I’m gone.” Theo says with a wink, stepping back away from her, prompting her hands to fall from him as she continues to stare over at him, her mind in a daze. “And who knows,” He takes another step back, “Maybe there’s a witch who’s willing to brave the dance floor with him.”

 

It isn’t until he’s turned around, an air of ease about him, that Mia snaps out of it.

“Wait, what?!” He did not get to kiss her like that and then walk away. “Theo Nott, you come back here right now!”

Laughing over his shoulder, Theo shakes his head, continuing into the party. Mia gathers her skirt and hurries after him, catching him just as he’s on the edge of the dance floor. Her hand lands on his forearm, spinning him around.

Seagreen eyes dance with light as they stare down at her, and with a smooth movement, his hand is in hers and tugging her closer, one arm winding around her as she’s suddenly lead into a dance on the open space of the floor.

“Theo—Wait, what are we—“

“We’re dancing, Rossano.” He cuts her off, twirling her around, “Is this not what you wanted?”

When she’s spun back into his chest, Mia takes a moment to catch her breath, her hand resting against his chest much like how Hermione’s had on Draco’s before. “But…I mean…huh?”

Chuckling softly, Theo leans down to speak into her ear, “I’ll let you in on a little hint, Rossano. That first case we were assigned to work together on? I requested it.”

 

She pulls her head back, gaping up at him in shock. But Theo just smiles down at her, continuing to lead her in the dance.

“You what?”

“It’s always been you, Mia. There’s never been anyone else.”

“I…”

“You want this, don’t you?” He asks her, “Did you not just tell me that this is what you wanted?”

“Y-Yes.” Mia stutters out, “I just…I didn’t realize—“

“I know you didn’t.” He shrugs, turning them in time with the song, “But you do now. Unless you aren’t as bright as I thought and haven’t caught on.”

When she scowls up at him, Theo lets out a bright laugh, “That’s the witch I know.”

Her expression softening, Mia peers up at him from under her lashes, “So this is really happening? You and me?”

In the middle of the dance floor, Theo comes to a stop, releasing her hand to cup her cheek gently, his thumb brushing against her cheek bone. “You and me, Mia. It’s happening.”

“Good.” She replies, stretching up onto her toes to kiss him once more.


	6. Bailed Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco, Blaise, and Theo have found themselves in an unfortunate situation.
> 
> Pairings: Draco/Hermione, Blaise/Luna, and Theo/Mia (OC)

“I’m so sorry. I can’t even tell you how sorry I am.”  
Blaise and Draco scowl, both with remarks at the tips of their tongues, but Theo is quicker.  
“No, no,” He waves a hand at the other two, “Don’t even say it. I heard it.”  
“Oh, you heard exactly how pathetically weak of an apology that was?” Draco draws with an exaggerated eye roll. “Honestly, Nott. When have you ever apologized and truly _meant_ it?”  
Theo shrugs, slouching further back against the cement wall, “I’m sure there’s at least one time in our friendship.”  
Blaise snorts in amusement, crossing his arms as he hooks one of his feet over the opposite ankle, “Please. Do tell us when that was.”  
“I can’t remember when exactly, Zabini.”  
“Then how about you hold off with anymore wanna-be apologies?” Draco snaps, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “Even though you _should_ be apologizing.”  
“Me!?”  
“Yes. You.”  
“Why the fuck should I be apologizing?!”  
“Because if it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t even be here in this mess!” Draco bursts out, eyes flashing dangerously across at Theo.  
But because the other man had known the younger Malfoy since practically birth, the look did nothing to phase him. Instead, Theo blinks lazily back at him. “You could have said no.”  
“Could have—what are you—you...you…” Draco splutters, trying to find words before sending a pleading look to Blaise.  
Sighing, the dark skinned man rubs the bridge of his nose, “Theo, please refrain from further stressing Draco out.”  
“I am not stressing!”  
“And also take responsibility for us being here.” Blaise adds, ignoring Draco’s comment. “Because even if we _had_ said no, you would have either persuaded or blackmailed us in to doing it.”  
A grin slowly spreads across Theo’s lips as he chuckles lowly, “Fair point.”  
“Asshole.” Draco mutters darkly, continuing to glare over at the other man and deeply questioning his choice in friends.

The three fall into a silence, listening to the sounds around them and each lost in their own thoughts.  
If being in Slytherin for nearly seven years taught them anything, it was how to wait out a long, boring, and even irritating situation.  
But Draco and Blaise were also stuck with Theo.

“So.” Deep brown and silvery grey eyes dart over to a pair of sea green ones. “How mad do you think they’ll be?”  
“Before or after they find out it was your fault?” Blaise asks with an arched eyebrow, “As that will surely influence their attitudes towards myself and Draco.”  
“Except for the small fact that we still ended up going along with the idiot and his plan.” Draco mutters under his breath, picking at a piece of lint on his pants. “Why am I friends with you again, Nott?”  
“Convenience? Connections? My undeniable charm?”  
Blaise turn his head to look at Draco, “You two were forced together from a young age and it was easier to pretend to like him rather than hate him.”  
“Ah,” Draco nods, “Right. Thank you, Blaise.”  
“You’re most welcome.”  
“And I’m the ass?” Theo snorts, “Feeling the love from you two right now.”  
“Shut up, Nott.”  
“Not until you answer my question.”  
“I imagine that he,” Draco nods towards Blaise, “Will be fine. He never gets in trouble. Ever.”  
Blaise gives an easy shrug, “What can I say? I do no wrong.”  
“You do recall where we’re sitting right now, right?”  
“In certain people’s eyes, I do no wrong.” Blaise corrects after Draco’s statement.  
“As for you and I,” Draco’s eyes flicker back to Theo, “Well...I suppose it was nice living this long.”  
“Agreed.” Theo nods, “We lived a good life.”  
“I’ll remember you both fondly.” Blaise comments, “And speak highly of you at your funeral.”

Their conversation is interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps before a large man rounds the corner, staring at the three of them from the other side of the bars.  
“Zabini? Malfoy? Nott?”  
“Unfortunately.” Draco mutters, eyeing the man up with displeasure. Why did muggles insist on dressing so poorly?  
The man’s suit hung off of him loosely, and the colour was a horrible mixture of grey and brown. The tie clashed even worse with the loud red and even louder yellow stripes across it. The shoes were a shiny black with scuff marks on them showing their age, made worse by the man’s large belly and disheveled hair.  
Draco seriously contemplated hexing Theo for having them end up here.  
“Right,” The man coughs, running a hand down his tie in an attempt to smooth it, “You three are good to go. You’ve had bail made.”  
All three young wizards stood as one, eager to get out of the cell they’d been placed in. But before any of them can take a step, the man gives a small chuckle.  
“Although, you may want to be careful…”  
“Whatever for?” Blaise asks smoothly, sending a sharp look towards Draco as the blonde opens his mouth to make a comment.  
“I’ve been married for twenty years,” The man in the horrible suite says with a shake of his head, “And I ain’t ever seen my missus as angry as those two ladies out there. The third is a bit,” He pauses, scratching his head, “She seems oddly calm.”  
“Yes, well,” Draco says as he adjusts his own jacket, sending another scathing look at the suit the man has on. Honestly. “We can handle ourselves. Thank you.”  
Without another word, he brushes past the man and into the hallway, Theo following shortly after, and after a nod, Blaise trails behind, smirking.  
This was surely going to be an entertaining moment.

“Granger—”  
“Don’t.” Hermione says, eyes blazing as she points a finger over at Draco, “Do not even say one single word, Malfoy.”  
Pressing his lips together to stop from laughing, Blaise ambles over to his own witch, ducking down to drop a simple kiss on her lips, “Hello, love.”  
“Hello.” Luna replies, smiling dreamily up at him. “They’re quite mad.”  
“I imagine so.” Blaise chuckles, looking towards the remainder of the group.  
Hermione has her arms crossed tightly against her chest, lips pursed together and eyes narrowed as she stares over at Draco. The anger is rippling off of her in waves and spreading through the room. Since Blaise knew Draco so well, he can see the blonde man shift ever so slightly in discomfort.  
Only Hermione Granger could make him feel that way.  
A few feet away from them stands Theo and his witch. His hands are shoved deep in his pocket and head bowed to stare at the ground. Mia has her forehead resting in her hand, disappointment evident across her body as she sighs deeply, unable to even say anything in response.  
“Shall we go and get some coffee?” Luna pipes up, her body leaning into Blaise’s as he winds an arm around her.

The group shuffles out of the police department and into London’s streets, still busy despite the growing hour.  
Hermione and Mia walk side by side in the front, Theo and Draco following after their girlfriends, with Blaise and Luna taking up the rear.  
None of them speak as they walk down the sidewalk, Hermione leading them towards a cafe she knew would be open at this time of night.  
But before they reach the door, she spins around, causing Draco to stumble to a halt before running into his girlfriend.  
“How _could_ you?!”  
“Granger, please—”  
“I never thought you were stupid enough to do something like this, Malfoy!” Hermione shouts, poking him in the chest, “You are supposed to be the smart one!”  
“Cheers.” Theo mutters, hands still shoved into his pockets.  
“Don’t even start, Nott.” Mia snaps at him, glaring over at her boyfriend. “I know this was your idiotic plan.”  
“Okay, but—”  
“No!” She snaps again, and Theo quickly closes his mouth, fearing Mia’s wrath, “You were fucking _arrested_ , Theo! Arrested!”  
“It was all a misunderstanding.”  
“Oh,” Hermione scoffs, “Please, do explain how this could have possibly been a _misunderstanding_.”  
“Er—”  
“Brilliant as ever, Nott.” Blaise mumbles, shaking his head. He smiles down at Luna when she gives his arm a squeeze before he steps forward and in front of his best friends, holding up placating hands towards the two angry witches. “Mia, Hermione, if I may?”  
“Go ahead.” Mia huffs, waving a hand at him, “Give it a try.”

“Yes, Theo was stupid—”  
“Hey!”  
“Shut up, Nott.” Draco hisses.  
“But,” Blaise continues, gaze shifting from one witch to the other, “He never intended for us to be arrested. It was meant to be a bit of fun between boys. Not to mention none of us really understood the muggle laws—”  
“If you would just _listen_ to me.” Hermione says, blowing a stay curl out of her hair. They had lost count of the number of times her, and Mia, had told them about muggle laws.  
Didn’t mean they understood them.  
“Anyways,” Blaise continues, smiling charmingly over at the Gryffindor, and pointedly ignoring the glare coming from Draco at the gesture, “We never meant to get arrested! It was just a couple of us boys going out on the town and okay, yes, Theo may have been a tad stupider than usual…”  
“I’m right here you know!” Theo protests, yelping and holding his arm a moment later, stepping away from Mia as she lowers her hand, “Right, shutting up.”  
“But we’re sorry. Honestly. Never our intention to end up in muggle jail. Or to have you three wonderful and lovely ladies—”  
“Lay it on a little thicker, why don’t you, Zabini.” Draco drawls.  
“Come bail us out of said jail.” Blaise finishes, once again ignoring the Malfoy heir. “Please, accept our sincerest apologies for ruining what I’m sure was a lovely night planned.”

Hermione and Mia stare over at Blaise with cold, guarder expressions, silently assessing him and the words said. Luna on the other hand, slides up to her boyfriend’s side once more, her arm wrapping around him as she rests her head against his arm, “That was lovely, dear.”  
“Thank you, love.”  
“You two are disgusting.” Draco mutters, shaking his head. It wasn’t fair that Blaise never got in trouble with _his_ girlfriend.  
“Alright.” Mia finally says, causing Draco and Theo’s gaze to snap over to her, mouths dropping open in shock, “We’ll let it go this time.”  
“But you’re paying us back.” Hermione adds, and that’s when the two wizard’s know they haven’t gotten off completely free.  
Their girlfriend’s _never_ insisted on them paying them back; both were too proud to do so and it was why the two boys usually tried to pay for things, knowing they were better off financially.

“Of course.” Theo says quickly, nodding feverently. “Anything.”  
“And maybe next time,” Mia narrows her eyes once more at Theo, “Think for five seconds before you do anything?”  
“That may be asking a bit too much, babe.” He smiles back at her, reaching for one of her hands. Reluctantly, the blonde allows him to tug her closer, rolling her eyes at his comment, but there’s evidence of a smile appearing on the corner of her lips.  
“I think that’s asking for entirely too much.” Draco states as he adjusts himself to be at Hermione’s side, placing his hand on the lower of her back, relaxing his shoulders when she doesn’t shift away. Or slap him. “Shall we continue on for coffee?”  
“Coffee sounds lovely!” Luna chirps, her hand slipping into Blaise’s and leading him towards the door, going on about an article her father recently published.

Hermione glances over at Draco, a tired sigh escaping past her lips as she turns to face him, “Don’t be an idiot again.”  
“Will do, Granger.”  
“I’ll hex you if you do.”  
“I know.” He smiles, pressing a quick kiss to her lips, “I’ll make it up to you.”  
“Damn right you will.” She replies with a light snort, spinning on her heel and heading towards the cafe, Draco following behind her.

“Why do I date you again?” Mia asks Theo with a tilt of her head.  
“My dashing good looks? Incredible personality? You were dropped on your head as a child?” He replies, tugging her closer.  
“I’m going with the last one.”  
“Whatever makes you happy, babe.” He grins, leaning down to kiss her slowly, “And thank you for coming to get us.”  
“Don’t thank me.” Mia replies with a smile as she steps back and towards the cafe, “I was voting to leave you three there overnight.”  
“You wouldn’t!”  
She raises an eyebrow challengingly, “Want to test that?”  
“No, no, no.” He follows after her, “Forget I said it. I believe you.”  
“Good.” She winks, spinning on her heel and heading into the cafe, Theo right behind her.


	7. One Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theo keeps showing up at Harry’s investigations.
> 
> Pairing: Harry/Theo

Harry adjusts the grip on his wand, back pressed against the wall as he lets out a slow and long breath.

He could hear the person around the corner, unsuspecting and oblivious to the fact that Harry was right there. But that was fine with him; the element of surprise was best in these type of circumstances.

At the sound of a low and muttered curse, Harry pushes himself off of the wall and spins around the corner, wand pointed across at the person, spell on the tip of his tongue.

Except the person staring back at him is very much not the man he’d been chasing for the past week.

 

“Dammit, Nott!” Harry growls, lowering his wand, “How the hell did you even get in here?”

“The window.” Theo shrugs, leaning back against the desk he had previously been rummaging through. “How long have you been hiding there?”

“I wasn’t hiding.”

“Then what were you doing?”

“Where is he?”

“Gone. Was gone when I got here.”

Harry’s head tilts back as he groans, “So you mean to tell me that I’ve been stalking _you_ this entire time?”

“Apparently so, Potter.” Theo chuckles darkly. “Didn’t know you cared so much.”

“You aren’t even supposed to be here.” Harry says as he lifts his head back up to glare over at the other man, “This is a Ministry case—”

“And I work for the Ministry.”

Harry’s mouth falls open in shock, “Since when!?”

Theo’s head cocks to the side, “When did you start this case?”

“A week ago.”

“Right.” He nods. “Six days ago.”

“You...but they...for fuck sakes!” Harry kicks the desk, cursing again when a jolt of pain shoots through his foot. “Stay out of this, Nott!”

“I’m only doing my job.” Theo replies with a smirk. “I can’t stay out of anything.”

“Then stay out of my way.” Harry growls, turning and marching out of the room.

 

Two days later, Harry spins around to see Theo Nott once more.

“Oh.” Theo blinks lazily. “You’re here.”

“Of _course_ I’m here.” Harry sighs, “This is my case, remember?”

“Honestly forgot.” Theo shrugs, moving to stand beside Harry, peering down at the mess on the ground. “What happened?”

“Working on that bit.” Harry grumbles, watching Theo from the corner of his eyes. “How’d you find me?”

“Who says I was searching for you?” Theo winks before crouching down and poking at the cloth with his wand, “Nasty spell, this one.”

“Experience with it?”

“Some bloke tried to use it on me when I declined staying the night.” Theo replies with ease as he straightens up once more. “Apparently he was a cuddler.”

Harry blinks over at Theo for a second, processing the sudden piece of information, but before he can properly react, there’s a movement from a nearby bush and a body appearing from it, running from them.

Theo grins over at Harry, “Gotta love when they run!” And then he’s chasing after him, leaving Harry in front of a pile of steaming clothes.

“Dammit, Nott!” He calls after the disappearing Slytherin, “This is my case!”

 

When Theo walks through the doorway, sipping at his cup of coffee with an air of nonchalance, Harry isn’t even surprised.

Not anymore.

It seemed that no matter what case he was working, Theo Nott was always there.

And always determined to one up him.

But Harry was never one to back down from a challenge, and so he would push himself harder too, trying his best to outdo Theo and his less convenient and Ministry approved ways.

As it currently stood, they were tied for arrests.

This would be the one to decide who was better.

 

“Potter.”

“Nott.”

“What’s the situation this time?”

Running his fingers through his messy hair, Harry nods towards the body covered by a sheet. “Older lady. Probably late seventies. Muggle. Took a pretty bad curse, and her heart gave out. We aren’t sure why they targeted her specifically, but we think the attacked is linked to the Liverpool gang—the magical one.”

“Right.” Theo nods, eyes flickering around the room. “Same one as last month?”

“Potentially. We haven’t found their mark yet. And as you know—”

“They always leave their mark.” Theo sighs, tossing his now empty cup into the garbage can. “You’d think they’d want to _not_ be known for the attack.”

“Yeah, well, you’d also think they wouldn’t attack perfectly innocent old ladies.” Harry grumbles, shuffling towards the mantle that had many photographs displayed. The sight of the family their victim had been forced to leave behind has Harry looking away quickly.

Some parts of this job never got easier. “I’m going to go check upstairs. You got this room covered?”

“All good.” Theo replies from where he’s stood by the desk, poking around at a few books there.

 

The house is eerily quiet upstairs as Harry pauses at the top of the steps. The hall is dark, only light by the half moon streaming through the windows. He can distantly hear Theo shuffling around downstairs, but besides that, there’s nothing but himself.

Sliding his wand out of his pocket, Harry moves down the carpeted hallway, his footsteps muffled as he approaches a door left ajar.

The back of his neck itches with the feeling of something being wrong, but he brushes it off as part of the job.

Besides, for all he knew, Theo had arrived here before him and had set some sort of trap.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

 

“ _Lumos_.” Harry whispers, the tip of his wand lighting up dully and offering him a better view of the room. It was a bedroom, one clearly not used in a while judging by the thick layer of dust settled across the night tables beside the bed.

But across the room, one chest is clear of dust. Frowning, Harry moves towards it, grip tightening around his wand. Why would that chest be clean while everything else was undisturbed?

As he reaches for the latch of the chest, there’s the sound of heavy footsteps racing towards him from the hallway, and just as the lid flies open a voice yells out at him.

“HARRY!”

He can feel his body flying backwards, can feel the solidness that is the wall opposite as his head thumps heavily against it, and can feel the air leave his lungs in one quick _woosh_.

And then, Harry feels nothing.

 

Harry jolts awake, wincing as the movement tugs at his back muscles, which protest greatly. The throbbing in his head grows suddenly and has him clutching as his forehead, something he hadn’t done in years since Voldemort had last invaded his mind.

This felt worse.

Groaning softly, he falls back against the pillows, sucking in deep breaths until the throbbing dulls into a distant ache at the back of his mind. Only then does he blink up at the ceiling, squinting when he notices how blurry it is.

Groping around blindly on the table next to his bed, Harry searches for his glasses. His fingers move across the flat surface, passing over something he thinks is the one arm of his glasses and holds it in front of his face.

It’s a flower.

A white daisy.

Blinking at it, Harry tries to figure out who would leave him a flower, and why.

 

The sound of shifting in a seat draws his attention away from the flower and has Harry squinting over at the figure slumped into the chair beside his bed.

Dropping the flower onto his lap, he once again searches for his glasses, having more success this time as he slides them onto his face, blinking as his world comes into focus.

There, looking incredibly uncomfortable in the tiny chair they supply at St. Mungo’s, was Theo Nott, fast asleep.

There were bags under his eyes while his hair and clothes were more ruffled than Harry was used to seeing on the former Slytherin.

But none of it answered the biggest question: Why the fuck was he here?

 

“I can feel you watching me, Potter.” Theo mutters, his eyes blinking open tiredly. “Weren’t you ever taught to not stare? It’s rude.”

“Sorry.” Harry mumbles unapologetically. “Uhm—”

“What happened?”

“Sure. Let’s start with that.”

Stretching his arms above his head, Theo gives a low groan before his arms fall heavily back down against his thighs. “It was a trap.”

“Huh?”

“Or a half-trap, I suppose. They caught on to us tracking them,” Theo explains, crossing his arms against his chest now, a frown tugging down the corner of his lips, “Which despite them leaving marks on all of their little raids, they didn’t care for. So they attacked that lady and left you that lovely present in that trunk.”

“What was it?”

“Basic magical bomb.” He shrugs, “Enough to send you flying and knock you out for a day or two.”

“Shit.”

“But,” Theo’s gaze falls down to the floor, “It could have been worse. I should have caught it sooner.”

“Theo—”

“I figured it out too late. But I just knew when I walked in that something was _off_ about the entire thing. It was all too...clean.”

“Theo, wait.” Harry sits up straighter, “It isn’t—”

Theo’s eyes snap up to his, “You almost died, Harry. Because of me.”

“How is this because of you?!”

“If I hadn’t been trailing after you for all those cases, you wouldn’t have gone upstairs to catch the first lead. Admit it.”

“I…” Harry’s mouth open and closes a few more times before shaking his head, “That doesn’t make this your fault. You didn’t set the bomb.”

“But I didn’t catch it in time either.” Theo growls. “You almost _died_ , Harry!”

“But I didn’t.” Harry replies with a small smile, his fingers curling around the daisy that still rested on his lap. “Because you were there, Theo. You got me here in time. You saved me.”

 

Blushing, Theo’s head turns away as he mutters something.

Harry leans forward, “What was that?”

“I said,” Theo forces out between clenched teeth, “That of course I saved you. I couldn’t very well let you die.”

“No one thought you would,” Harry shrugs, “Just because you were in Slytherin doesn’t mean you’re a heartless ass.”

“Merlin, are you _really_ that oblivious?”

Blinking, Harry stares over at Theo, who sighs and drags his chair closer.

“I didn’t let you die, Potter, because I much prefer you alive.”

“You...what?”

“And I wasn’t actually assigned to those first few cases.” Theo continues, smirking as he rests a hand over Harry’s, the one curled around the daisy. “I just wanted...I wanted to be near you.”

“How hard did I hit my head?” Harry mumbles, unable to tear his gaze away from Theo’s.

“Apparently hard enough to make you even more clueless.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” Theo leans in, “That I’ve been flirting with you for _weeks_ , Potter, and you’ve yet to notice.”

“Oh. Well. I mean—I thought—but—” Harry knew he was babbling, but he couldn’t stop. “You mentioned...there was...I just…”

“Do shut up, Potter.” Theo says with a chuckle, leaning in to kiss Harry into silence.

 

“And by the way,” Theo mumbles against Harry’s lips as he breaks the kiss, “I win.”

Harry jerks back abruptly, “Not fair! I was unconscious for the last one!”

Laughing again, Theo’s free hand curls around the back of Harry’s neck and tugs him in for another kiss. They could argue about the details later.


	8. Socks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Pansy don’t like Luna’s socks. Blaise has other opinions.
> 
> Pairing: Blaise/Luna

“Dear gods,” Draco mutters under his breath, “What in the world is she wearing?”

Following his best mate’s shocked gaze, Blaise looks towards the doorway in which Luna Lovegood has just walked through. “Her school uniform. Exactly like you and I.”

“Not the _robes_.” Draco says, “Look lower!”

Biting back a sigh, Blaise does as requested and drops his eyes towards the ground, blinking as he notices exactly which article of clothing Draco was referring too.

“Socks.”

Except, they were not normal socks.

Hell, they weren’t even _matching_ socks.

 

On Luna’s right foot was a shocking pink sock, decorated with candy canes and mints, all adorned with glitter that caught the sunlight streaming in from the window. Along the ankles was a ruffle of lace, little pearly beads sewn in amongst it and dangling and jingling from the lace.

On her left, the situation was not much better. That sock was a mixture of colours: green, blue, purple, and oddly enough, orange. On top of the tie-dyed colours was little images of various types of fish. The bubbles of air rose from the fish and drifted along the socks, their fins moving from side to side as if eager to move amongst the socks fabric as well. The top of this sock had tiny pom-poms that matched the various colours of the fabric, bouncing along as Luna herself bounces on the pads of her feet.

 

“She isn’t even wearing shoes.” Pansy says, leaning across the desk to speak at a lower volume. Although Blaise notices that her eyes are alight with amusement and her lips quiver with the desire to cackle at the oddity of the Ravenclaw.

It was definitely one of the odder fashions that Blaise had seen Luna in, with the exception of the missing shoes. That had become quite normal as the weather had taken a turn for the better and now left the castle pleasantly warm as afternoon settled in.

“What in the world is wrong with her?” Draco continues, his eyes captivated by the blonde as she flounces over to an empty desk, depositing her worn out bag that is covered in a multitude of colourful patches and badges.

“Why do you insist there’s something wrong with her?” Blaise asks, turning his attention away from the intriguing witch and back to his own bag—a sturdy leather one that his mother had gifted him this past Christmas, his initials printed into it along the opening. He resumed pulling out his books, parchment, and quills for class, completely missing the scandalized looks sent to him by his fellow housemates.

 

“Blaise,” Draco says in a tone of abhorrence. “There _has_ to be something wrong with her! No sensible witch or wizard would be caught alive wearing….those!” He gestures wildly towards Luna, who had started to hum and sway to a song that only she knew.

Pansy sniffs as she turns away from the other girl, “I don’t think anyone _dead_ would be caught in those either. Honestly. It is nearly June. Who wears socks with Christmas candies on them at this time of year?”

Unable to repress the sigh this time, Blaise feels it fall past his lips as he pauses in arranging his class supplies. “They’re just socks, you two. Nothing wrong with her expressing herself through the form of socks.”

A snort of amusement comes from Pansy, and Draco quickly joins in as he chuckles lowly. The two Slytherin’s are soon leaning against the desk and laughing loudly, earning a few disgruntled looks from their fellow classmates.

Scowling, Blaise’s hand tightens into a fist on the desktop. “What is so bloody funny?!”

“Honestly, Blaise,” Draco chuckles as he shakes his head, “Expressing herself? Lovegood is exactly what everyone calls her: Loony.”

“Yeah, well, I disagree.” Blaise snaps, shoving his items roughly back into his bag before standing up abruptly. “I happen to like her socks. And her name is _Luna_.”

 

Ignoring the bewildered expressions of his housemates, Blaise turns away from the desk and marches over to the one where Luna is sat.

The blonde blinks slowly up at him, a dream-like smile curving up her lips, “Hello, Blaise Zabini.”

“Hi, Luna.” He replies, his tone much softer than the one he’d used with Draco and Pansy. “Would you mind if I sat with you today?”

“Not at all.” She tells him, gesturing to the stool beside her. “Although, I am surprised you aren’t sitting with Draco and Pansy.”

Placing his bag onto the desk, Blaise starts to once again remove his items. “Needed a break from them. Plus, you seem like much better company.”

“Thank you.” Luna says prettily, reaching over to give his arm a gentle squeeze, “That’s very kind of you.”

Blushing lightly, he shrugs, fiddling with straightening out his parchment, which had been a bit crumpled during his hasty leave from the other desk. “It’s nothing. Just the truth.”

Shrugging, she shifts in her stool to face the desk properly, plucking up her quill and running her fingers absentmindedly along the feather, humming a song once more.

 

Blaise watches her from the corner of his gaze, adjusting his books to appear busy while doing so. She really was quite pretty, with her fair hair and smooth skin. Her eyes were a silvery blue mingling with grey, and quite captivating with their dream-like quality. Her voice was always gentle and calm, almost as if she was hiding a secret only she knew.

And she wasn’t afraid to wear socks as bold as the one on her feet.

 

“I like your socks.” Blaise blurts out, interrupting the silence between them.

Beaming, Luna looks down at her feet, swinging around in the stool again so she can stick them out, displaying them boldly for him. “Thank you! I was going to wear shoes, but then that would be hiding away these lovely things. And that would be quite the shame.”

Smiling softly at her comment, he nods. “A shame indeed.”

“A lot of people keep looking at them. I think they like them too.”

“I think you’re right, Luna.” Blaise agrees, “I’m glad you wore them, and without shoes.”

“Me too.” She nods, adjusting herself in her stool as the professor bustles into the classroom, muttering an apology.

With the distinct feeling of Draco and Pansy’s eyes on his neck, Blaise decides now was the time to be bold like the Ravenclaw next to him and embrace what he liked. Leaning closer to speak into her ear, and so to not be overhead by the professor, he asks Luna a simple question:

“Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me next visit? On a date?”

Her captivating eyes dart over to his, her lips curving up in a coy smile, “I thought you would never ask.”

 


End file.
